Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Rushing out the door, I meet the boys for our morning run, and we get straight into it. I lead the pack with Bobby by my side, the rest of the boys following behind.
A smirk plays on my lips as two petite brunettes come jogging toward us on the opposite side of the road. Bobby and I recognize them instantly, but they’re too lost in their conversation to realize anyone is around.
Bri notices us first and nods her chin toward us, prompting Cass to look up. A grin tears across her face as she focuses her heavy stare on me. I jog across the road and the boys follow so we’re heading straight for them, and I watch as her eyes sparkle with happiness.
I adjust myself on the path so I’m running right in her way and stare her down. Heat rises in her cheeks, and I know she’s thinking about the night of the wedding. More specifically what we did in my old bedroom. Hell, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, too.
Cassie’s bottom lip gets lost between her teeth, and the overwhelming need to pin her up against a tree and fuck her right here fires through me. Fuck the boys, I don’t care who’s watching. I just need to have her.
Knowing I’ll never be able to concentrate on my training like this, I push the thought from my head, but the closer we get, the wider my smirk becomes. Cassie narrows her stare on mine, reading me better than I could ever read myself, and she releases her lip, her flirtatious gaze turning into a deep suspicion. She starts shaking her head, but it’s too late. We’re right on top of them now.
“No, no, no,” she squeals.
Cassie tries to sidestep but I move with her, bending low and wrapping my arms around her legs as our bodies collide. She lets out a shriek, but before she even knows what’s happening, she’s thrown over my shoulder and I continue my run as though I don’t have a squealing woman hanging over me.
Bri turns and runs with us while Cass kicks and pounds on my back, begging to be released. I can’t help but laugh as I smack her on the ass. “Would you put me down, you big turd?”
My laugh takes over, and I have no choice but to stop and put her down before I hurt us both. I place her back on her feet and she narrows her eyes at me in annoyance, but I step into her personal space and stare down at her. The irritation in her eyes quickly fades, turning into a desperate, hot need.
She parks her fists on her hips as I lean into her and kiss her deeply, and I grin as she becomes putty in my hands. She kisses me back, and I almost forget we have an audience before I release her with a wink. “Gotta go, babe,” I say, taking off with the boys and leaving both Cass and Bri staring after me, dumbfounded.
A chuckle from beside me has me glancing at Bobby. “Fuck man, you got it bad.”
With a roll of my eyes, my fist shoots out and collides with his shoulder, completely throwing him off the path. But he’s right. I do got it bad. I got it so fucking bad.
The rest of the day flies by, including hockey training, and when we break to head to the locker room, Coach hollers across the ice for me to join him in his office.
I step off the ice and make my way to Coach Harris’ office as quickly as possible. I’m keen to get this meeting over and done with since I have got myself some plans for tonight. “What’s up, Coach?” I ask, flopping down into his chair. With all my hockey gear still on, I barely fit into the seat, awkwardly folding in on myself as I focus my attention on Coach.
“Just checking your head is in the game,” he says with an accusing tone.
I’m instantly on edge. “It is,” I insist, feeling better than I have all season. “All my games have been spot on. I haven’t missed a beat.”
“Chill out, kid,” he says with a grin. “You’re right. Your games have been flawless, your training sessions with the boys are fantastic, and your dedication to your role as captain is commendable.”
“Huh?” I grunt, confused why I’ve been pulled in here.
“What I’m saying is that anything hockey related is near perfect, but don’t act like I don’t pay attention to you boys once you step off my ice. Your head is a mess,” he accuses.
“Nah,” I deny. “I’m all good.”
He gives me an annoyed look and gets straight into it. “You’re running three times as much as the others, you’ve logged a shitload of hours in the gym, you’ve stopped your wild partying, and the moment you step off the ice, you sink away into your head,” he says. “Now, I know I may be getting old, but fuck me, Jax, I can clearly tell you’re distracted by something. You have three seconds to tell me, or you’ll be on during the next figure skating session doing your drills.”